A Very Tavington Christmas
by Iarejedi
Summary: Exactly what it sounds like.


Disclaimer: Not mine, but sure wish Tavington was.

A/N: This is a short ficlet about the Dragoon's Christmas. Don't know where it came from, but I hope y'all like it. It's just something cute and sweet so yes the characters may seem a little OOC. I tried not to let that happen so we'll see. Also I did my best to keep the facts straight but as I've mentioned before I'm not an expert. Things are not going to be perfect. Anywho, go ahead and read it.

**A Very Tavington Christmas**

A slash of blinding sunlight moved across Colonel Tavington's face as he lay half asleep on his cot. He groaned in irritation at the rustling sound of the tent flap opening. He knew who it was without having to look, and right at the moment he might have shot the offender for disturbing his sleep if his gun were not just out of reach.

Damn.

"Merry Christmas, sir," Bordon's voice shattered the stillness. He sounded much to cheerful, but then it was supposed to be a happy day.

Tavington made a mental note to move his gun closer to his cot that night. He lifted his head up from his tattered pillow to glare at his subordinate. "I thought we were sleeping late this morning?" he growled, before burying his face back in his pillow.

"You have, sir," Bordon informed him. "I have just come to tell you that the men have cooked a special Christmas morning breakfast. So if you would like to partake in it before the men eat it all you may want to get out of bed, sir."

"Do they have coffee?" the muffled question came from somewhere in the pillow.

Bordon smirked to himself. "Of course, sir."

Tavington was off the cot and pulling on his pants faster than Bordon had ever seen him move any other morning. The Colonel did not even bother to tuck in his shirt or tie it closed before stamping his feet into his boots. He grabbed his coat, threw it on, and shoved open the tent flap. He moved as quickly as one could without running determined to get his coffee.

Bordon caught up to Tavington at the fire pit. Bordon almost chuckled at the sight of the Colonel, who was sitting half curled up with a mug of coffee in his hands. Tavington was staring groggily into the fire as he nursed his coffee, trying to convince his body that yes he did have to be awake. Most of the Dragoons were in similar positions around the fire eyeing Tavington with as much amusement as they dared show.

Captain Wilkins walked over to cautiously set down a plate of food in front of Tavington's feet. He got a grunt for a thank you from the Colonel. After a few minutes, when the coffee began to take effect, Tavington uncurled enough to take his plate. He eat ravenously with little regard to manners. Bordon watched while briefly wondering if the Colonel could ever be taught to use proper etiquette. He immediately tossed the idea after a disturbing image of a polite Tavington appeared in his mind. He thought he might have nightmares of that one.

When Tavington had finished eating and was working on his second cup of coffee, Bordon decided the Colonel was finally safe enough to approach. "Sir?"

"Yes, Bordon?" Tavington asked, glancing up. He stared in surprise at a cloth wrapped object in Bordon's hands. He looked around, noticing for the first time how closely the other Dragoons were watching him. They were all up to something. Oddly, thought he was not suspicious but curious.

"The men and I decided that in the spirit of Christmas we should give you a gift to show our appreciation of you," Bordon presented the gift to Tavington with a warm smile.

Tavington hesitated a moment before reaching up gingerly to take the proffered gift. A small smile immediately crossed his face as the weight of it full rested in his hands. He knew what it was just by the feel of it. He quickly pulled away the cloth wrapping to gaze in admiration at the pistol lying in his hands. The metal of the barrel was of the finest steel polished to a shining gleam. The wood of the stock was dark mahogany, smooth and beautifully styled. It was light, but sturdy. It was made to perfection by some expert gunsmith's hands. Tavington ran his fingers over every inch of it before looking around at Bordon and the Dragoons.

"Thank you," he said simply. The words did not seem strong enough to convey how much such a gesture meant to him. He was incompetent in expressing how to say what he truly felt. He could not find the words.

None were needed. The men understood. They were all grinning happily like cats drinking cream. For them, the thank you was enough.

Tavington set down the pistol in his lap before reaching into his coat pocket and extracting a bulging brown bag. He looked around at them all with an expression that seemed slightly sheepish and more than a little uncomfortable. He opened it then handed it to Bordon.

"I bought this for the Dragoons. If you would pass it around. There should be enough for two each," Tavington told Bordon quietly, trying to school his expression back into a more stern look.

Bordon glanced down into the bag and forcefully suppressed the grin that was starting to form. He walked over to Captain Wilkins, who was the closest to him, as he reached in the bag. He pulled out two round pieces of peppermint candy and offered them to Wilkins. Captain Wilkins could not help but smile in delight as he took them. He looked over briefly at Tavington who was staring studiously at the fire and doing a piss poor job of ignoring what Bordon was doing. Apparently giving gifts was not something the Colonel was used to doing. In fact, Wilkins would have wagered that this was the first time Tavington had ever done so.

Bordon went around the fire to each Dragoon passing out the candy. The men were more than happy with the gift. They were all fighting smiles and holding back thank yous to their commander. They knew such displays of appreciation would make Tavington more uncomfortable and most likely put him in a bad mood. They did not need to say anything though. Tavington had only to look about at his men to know they were very grateful for the simple gift.

Bordon was about to take a seat, holding two of his own pieces of peppermint to enjoy, when Tavington called him over.

"Yes, sir?" Bordon came to stand in front of Tavington once more.

Tavington shoved a paper wrapped object into Bordon's hand, who looked at the Colonel with quizzical expression on his honest face.

"It is for you, Bordon," Tavington said with a touch of impatience.

Bordon gazed down at the paper wrapped gift for another long moment before beginning to unwrap the paper. He pulled the paper apart and stared in surprise. Sitting in the paper was a boot knife with a leather sheath. It was a handsome thing with a cherry wood handle that had been chiseled with intricate design of leaves and vines. The blade was sharpened to deadly perfection and shone brightly in the morning sun. The leather of the sheath was well worn, but the hand tooled leaves and vines design on it were still quite prominent. The weapon was beautiful but more than that Bordon knew it was Tavington's favorite. Did the Colonel really mean to let him have it?

"Sir?" he could not help but ask. "I–."

"Yes, Bordon. It is yours," Tavington interrupted him.

Bordon curled his fingers around the knife, paper and all. He did not know why Tavington wanted to give it to him but the significance of the gift was not lost on him. He cleared his throat as emotion began to tighten it. "Thank you very much, sir." He could not hold back him smile this time. He was even more pleased by the slight smile Tavington gave in return.

"You are welcome," Tavington's words were almost inaudible.

Bordon bent down to hide his embarrassment as he tucked the knife into his boot. He wore it there from then on. It was an ever present reminder of Tavington's friendship. Neither spoke of it again, but Tavington knew Bordon kept the knife on his person at all times after that. As for the pistol Tavington had been given; it became his favorite weapon.

No one ever forgot that Christmas spent around the fire. It had been a simple affair but the sharing of peppermints, food, ale, and companionship made it perhaps the best Christmas anyone of them ever had. It was a rare moment of calm in their world full of war. It was a pleasant memory to look back on from time to time that made even Tavington smile.

The End.

**P.A.T.R.I.O.T.**

Hope y'all enjoyed it because I loved writing it. I know it started and ended rather abruptly but it seemed rather fitting. Don't forget reviews are an author's best friend. ;)


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